


The Day the Earth Stood Still

by DonnesCafe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, So very AU, story genres
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonnesCafe/pseuds/DonnesCafe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock wonders what sort of story he and John are in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day the Earth Stood Still

There is a secret. Is that vague enough? Much as I insult John’s blog, he does have a talent for cutting to the chase that I seem to lack. I saw an article on the internet about plots. It was about a book by someone or other claiming that there were seven plots. Comedy, tragedy, quest. Mostly the usual suspects, but what caught my eye was that one of the plots was called “overcoming the monster.” Very Jungian, which the author apparently was. Who was the author? Irrelevant. The article was on Wikipedia, so I’ve deleted most of it. Don’t tell John I consulted Wikipedia. I have a reputation to maintain. 

Tonight I've been wondering what sort of story John and I are in. John is out on a date. Mrs. Hudson stomped up the stairs a while ago to forbid me to play the violin at 2:00 a.m. She stomps quite forcefully for an elderly lady with a purportedly dicey hip. 

“What story are we in, Mrs. Hudson?” I thought perhaps she would know. 

“Story? What do you mean?” She clutched her frilly robe about her, the violet one with the lace. 

“John thinks we’re in a detective story. His blog makes that clear. I’ll concede there are frequent detective episodes that we both enjoy. Those certainly take up most of our time.” 

“I don’t know what story you’re in, Sherlock, but sometimes I think I’m in an episode of Monty Python.” Very amusing, Hudders. Yes, I caught the Monty Python reference. John makes me watch it periodically, and I haven't deleted all the episodes. 

She stood looking at me. I looked back. She sighed. She does that a lot. Then she unclutched her lace and went to the kitchen to make tea. Mrs. Hudson is acerbic but merciful. After she left, I returned to my problem but not to the violin. Mrs. Hudson can be intimidating when she chooses. 

The heart of my problem is this. John thinks our cases are the mysteries. Well, they are mysteries, but not The Mystery. 

There is a Mystery. A mystery to John, not to me, since I know the secret. Perhaps a better way to put it is that I am the secret. Anyway, what was worrying me was the thing about overcoming. That’s always the general idea, of course. Hero overcomes monster, saves the world. Theseus stabs the Minotaur. Or strangles it. There is some conflict in the original sources. Beowulf puts paid to Grendel. Dismemberment figures in that one. John made me watch _Godzilla vs. Mothra_ once. Unbeknowst to John I was ever so slightly high at the time, so the plot is a bit fuzzy, but I remember being encouraged that one of the monsters was on the side of right and good. I think. 

I almost told him the secret the night we watched _The Day the Earth Stood Still_. That was last Friday, and he didn't have a date. I shouldn’t have kept him company by drinking the Macallan that Lestrade gave us for Christmas, but he had brought home Indian, and his face was red from the cold, and he smiled as he poured two glasses. 

“Dinner and a movie? One of my favorite old movies is on tonight. We can watch it and you can tell me what rubbish the science is. It’s about aliens.” 

Ah, aliens. I reached for the glass he was holding out and took a large drink. I felt the warmth tear down my throat. I coughed. So we watched. The plot unfolded in pretty much the way Mycroft warned me about when we came to earth from Traock. He insists we can’t trust the humans. They will see us as monsters. Treat us as monsters. He is afraid I’m going to tell John, although I have promised not to do so. Oh, you hadn’t figured out the secret until just now. Yes, I am the monster. 

I hear John’s tread on the stairs. I thought he might stay over with whoever the woman was. 

The door opens. 

“Still up then,” he says. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” True. Of course I don’t need sleep. We’ve evolved beyond that. I pretend sometimes for John. 

He comes over, sits in his chair. 

I can’t help it. It comes out. The question. 

“What story are we in, John?” 

He looks at me for a long moment. A very long moment. Then he smiles. 

“Science fiction, I reckon,” he says softly. 

I often underestimate John. 

“Am I right?” 

“I fear so,” I reply. I always knew this day would come. “I mean you no harm. We mean you no harm. You can keep the flat. Mycroft wants me to move in with him, anyway. He thinks it’s safer.” 

“Sherlock." His voice is soft. “Look at me.” 

I can't. I don't want to see the monster reflected in his eyes. 

“Sherlock. I've suspected. For a while.” 

I do look up at that. 

“That’s why you made me watch the movie.” 

“Good deduction. I had a crush on Michael Rennie when I was a kid. You always kind of reminded me of him. Then there was the fact that you never really sleep. You hardly eat. And I saw your eyes do that thing a couple of times. Thought I was imagining it the first time.” 

The nictitating membrane. And I had been so careful. 

John gets up from his chair and comes to kneel in front of mine. 

“Can you show me?” 

I do. In our species the action of the membrane is voluntary and is often used when outside if a sulfuric storm comes up. 

“Wow.” 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Nope,” he says. “But it does explain Mycroft, doesn’t it?” 

I laugh. 

“Sherlock?” 

“Yes, John?” 

“You asked what kind of story we were in. Do you want to know what I think? 

Of course I do. I nod. 

“Romance." His voice is firm. 

“Romance? Like that incredibly stupid movie you made me watch about all the weddings and funerals? Tedious.” 

“No, like the one with Morticia and Gomez.” 

“I liked that one,” I say. Of course I did. They were monsters, but I admired their style. 

“Me, too. We’ll be monsters together. You and me against the world. But no burning the world to cinders.” 

“Understood,” I say, and kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a quick Sunday fic, so I went to the Writer's Den plot generator. :) Here is the result.


End file.
